For Your Reading Pleasure
by ShivaVixen
Summary: A collection of One Shots, drabbles, and Plot bunnies that people might enjoy. Will have a variety of genres but most will be focused on characters. Marked Complete, but still updating. Now up: Something Different- It's amazing, how the future can be shaped with a few small acts, into something totally different. A Supernatural/Friendship story.
1. Paradox of Person and Personification

**This is just going to be a collection of Hetalia oneshots, mostly to get a feel for the characters. There will be Alternate Universes, fanon, cannon, serious stuff, humor, angst and friendship, and a bunch of others . . . There may be some OCs, but that's mostly due to messing with nyotalia and other parallel nations.**

**I have my own brand of head cannon, which is in part inspired by the fics of Lapis Luzuli Ichigo, Ashynarr, Coffee Flavored Fate, Liondancer17 and a couple others, most are either favorited on my profile page, or their stories are.**

**So, pretty much, this will be a testing ground for some ideas.**

**I have one Hetalia chapter fic in progress, 'Twisted Every Way', and have posted one drabble on Tony amd America. *Shameless Plug***

**so, without further ado, here's the first one.**

The Paradox strikes America for the first time During his Revolution. He doesn't want to hurt England, his older brother, but he needs to get away from the British Empire. He can feel the pull, and when he starts to become America the country he still feels like he's America, England's little brother.

When England is in front of him, crying, America can't comfort him. He can't explain that he personally doesn't hate England, that he's not doing this to hurt England the person, but that he had to do it as a nation . . . But he can't find the words, and he knows England takes his cries for Freedom as an insult.

He can't explain that he (personally) didn't want this split, that he still wants to be friends even if they aren't brothers, but the words choke, and he pushes them away because he knows England won't listen.

Even though England should know that being a nation means sacrificing personal feelings for those of his boss or people.

* * *

The second happens in America's Civil War, as he's bleeding from his back and watching (feeling) his people die. Canada is standing there, looking at him in horror and trying to get him to talk, and he's pretty sure Prussia is nearby as well. He can't stop the soft laugh (which comes out harsh and choked, because something in him just ruptured) and Canada freaks out.

"You and I are brothers, right?" Canada stares at America in shock.

"Of course we are! Nothing can change that!" The other nation assures America, voice raising a little and close to panic.

"But . . . Our people barely get along." America notes, and Prussia comes over. "S'annoying, we can't . . ." America finally passes out, and when he wakes up, battle over for now, Canada and Prussia have gone back to their own countries.

* * *

The third time, America is sitting next to China, talking about Japan after the attack on Pearl Harbor. His back aches, and it's annoying, but he pushes through the meeting which dissolves into Russia talking to Canada about Polar Bears, France and England are trying to kill each other, and he just watches, not up to egging England and France on.

To tell the truth, he kinda wishes he was anywhere but here.

"How are you doing?" China asks him, and he blinks.

"Tired." America answers truthfully, and looks at the pictures of the axis still in front of him. "A little frustrated . . . I like Prussia, he's a friend . . ."

"They're our enemies, aru." China frowns at him, and America sighs.

"Just because our governments don't agree right now, doesn't mean I'm going to forget the fact that I got along with Japan, Prussia, Germany and the others." America isn't quite aware that the others are looking at him, and that England and France have stopped arguing. "Wars end eventually, I don't see the point in getting angry at them for what their bosses decide. We're stuck with each other, anyway, it's going to be a long time if we keep dragging everything with us."

" . . . If we were humans, yes." China looks at him with something akin to understanding and affection. "Shall we make a deal, then?"

"What kind of deal?"

"When we act as our countries when dealing with buisness of governments and economies, but after we act like our personal selves."

" . . . Deal."

The paradox, of being the representation of a country, and still being a person with your own opinion.

* * *

**Notes: This is completely inspired by the fact that technically, some of their interactions are a little messed up (China, Korea and Japan's relationships in history are a lot different than what you see in Hetalia, for example.)**

**My explanation- as persons they have their own opinions that don't always follow the popular opinions of the people they personify. Not to mention, they live a lot longer than humans and so have to deal with each other over long periods of time, making them somewhat friends. As personifications, however, they have to obey their bosses and governments, even though they might not agree with what's going on.**


	2. Mix-up: PrussiaxFem America

**This is pretty much how my minds works . . . beware Parallel World collisions.**

**This is a PrussiaxFem!America fic, inspired by Epic Hero Laugh's **_**It has to be a Trend**_** and one of my attempts at writing romantic fluff.**

* * *

The first time it happens, the (awesome!) Child nation that is Teutonic Knight Prussia almost runs over a little kid in white. The two children stare at each other, well aware that somehow, wherever they are isn't natural (the trees have an odd twist and color to them), and not where they were a minute before. They're also keenly aware that they're both nations.

It doesn't matter, and Prussia drags the little kid with him as they explore this strange realm, and the little kid proves to be just as awesome as Prussia when he actually picks up a freaking log easily the size of two horses and places it as a bridge for them to cross the river they find.

Prussia is actually enjoying himself, which is rare for him when he's with another nation. They fall asleep eventually, and when they wake up, they're back to where they were before.

The next time they meet in that strange world, Prussia's nine in terms of human appearance, and the little kid is still the same (maybe a couple years older, it's hard to tell with nations). Prussia finally gets a name.

"I'm America!" The child beams up at him, and again they spend an entire day running around exploring.

They meet a couple more times after that, but the real shock to Prussia happens when he realizes that America hasn't actually been born or even found yet.

He's been meeting with a future nation, and a tiny part of Prussia dies a little at the thought that America doesn't have anyone other than his awesome self to talk to (America talks of days alone with animals, occasionally playing with others, but Prussia knows that the kid is alone and fighting to survive just like he used to). And an even smaller part twists painfully at the thought that he might not exist when America does. They promptly do awesome things for the rest of their time together.

* * *

The next time they meet, America has gone through a growth spurt, and Prussia decides to teach the kid how to swim (awesomely, of course).

They don't get that far, because there's a woman near the stream wearing black trousers and a strange hat, short tunic and jacket with tan skin, dark brown hair and light purple eyes that doesn't look surprised to see them.

The woman introduces herself as America, too, which Prussia challenges as impossible. The woman blinks at them, and then gives a wry smile.

"Would you like to know something else impossible?" The Dark Woman America tells them of parallel worlds- worlds that are similar because certain people live there, but different in how those people live. In Dark Woman America's world, the male nations that Prussia knows are female.

"Then how are we able to meet you?" Dark Woman America blinks, and gives them another wry smile.

"Because occasionally, either through magic or science, one parallel world tries to take over the rest. This is just a result of the conflict, and it's pretty much hit or miss who ends up here. Eventually, things will straighten themselves back out . . . up until someone else decides to take over a couple parallels."

Prussia winces as his America clutches his arm. "Does that mean Prussia and I aren't from the same world?"

" . . . I don't know, kid, it's kind of hard to tell. There's a Prussia in my world, though, and we're sort of friends too, you're just going to have to wait until you're older." Dark Woman America suddenly disappears, and then Prussia's staring up at a familiar blue sky and promising himself that he'd find his America, even if he had to move to another world.

* * *

The next time, Prussia has the appearance of a young teenager, and America is only a couple years younger- but with a pair of womanly assets that are starting to develop. Prussia finds out on accident, and spends his entire time mentally cursing the odds of the America in his world being a girl, too. They still rough house, but Prussia is a little more forgiving than usual.

This time, they run into another America, an older teen-aged boy, in a blue military uniform who looks a little lost. Next to him is someone who looks like a mirror image named 'Canada' in a red uniform. Prussia learns that England (the name doesn't ring a bell, but then again, each nation has many names, so it's not surprising if he doesn't know this name exactly) is technically his America's sovereign too, even though he almost never shows up. Revolutionary America explains that he's fighting for his freedom because England has become too controlling and he wants to be free. Canada just smiles sadly, saying that he hopes America manages it, but he has no interest in helping him against the british, and Prussia doesn't miss the way the two are holding hands.

Prussia promptly declares that he's going to help his America against England, because he's an awesome friend, and both America's blink at him as Canada begins to laugh. The four end up playing tag until they return to their worlds.

* * *

Prussia is wearing his ceremonial armor the next time he and his America meet, both now slightly older teenagers- she's in a dress and explains that she now only pretends to be a boy when England or another nation is around. Prussia kind of wishes she'd grow her hair out to be a bit more like the Dark Woman America they met, but shoves that thought to the back of his mind.

They don't run around like they use to, instead they sit and talk, and Prussia teaches her his language (which she picks up incredibly fast) as she teaches him hers, and his heart is beating strangely as she leans against him.

The time after that, Prussia finds her bleeding and incoherent ("They shot them, I don't understand, why did they betray us?") and it takes him a while to understand that England's soldiers had attacked America's people, and America is frightened because she just doesn't understand. Prussia holds her and reassures her and his heart breaks as he remembers the America they met who was fighting against England and his promise to help.

America kisses him goodbye, and Prussia finds himself a shade of red that makes Hungary and France tease him when he returns to his world.

* * *

Years go by, and they don't meet again in that strange world, and Prussia is anxious about his America's fate- he's fascinated when he hears about the America of his world, but is a little too frightened to actually go and meet the kid.

When word comes of America's declaration of Independence, Prussia decides to go (because while it wasn't the America he knew, it was still America).

The Americans aren't soldiers, he realizes when he first sees the horrid state of the camp. He finds the America of this world, and promptly pushes the other into training (because there's no way he's going to let any America get ruled over by someone as un-awesome as England).

As he heads into this America's tent to check on him, the flap barely closes before he's suddenly in the strange world where parallel's meet- and the America he's with is slowly turning red because he(no, she) was in the middle of changing when they shifted, and the bandages around his(her) chest are loose.

The reunion and realization that the America of his world **is** his America makes the beat down she gives him for walking in on her totally worth it, in Prussia's mind.

When they return to their world, Prussia doesn't ease up on her training, but the two start getting along better, coming up with all sorts of ways to keep her safe from the world. He watches as she convinces her bosses to free the slaves to help them fight (he can't help but remember the other male America they met, dressed in blue and battered, suggesting that the first draft of the declaration had something important that shouldn't have been thrown out, and his America is using that knowledge to her advantage.)

They lose plenty of battles, but then they start winning and Prussia teaches her all his awesome tricks, and convinces Spain and France to help him teach her what she needs, because apparently England absolutely failed at teaching her anything. (Further cementing his place as an un-awesome nation, in Prussia's mind.)

His America wins. It's not all good news, however, as France ends up in on the secret when he walks in on America dressing before Prussia (busy with a drunk Spain) can stop him.

To France it's funny, especially since England never knew, and France gleefully laughs at the thought of how horrified the self-proclaimed gentleman would be when he finds out, though the French Nation then goes into big brother mode and pulls America aside for a talk on the dangers she might face, and there's definitely the promise of Prussia's demise if he hurts her.

Then they're all busy, because America's successful revolution has started something that no one realized and Prussia is busy with his hopefully more awesome brother Germany, though he writes her a whole lot.

* * *

News comes of America's civil war, and Prussia worries about her when her letters stop coming.

He's relieved when they're pulled back into that world and he gets to see his America again (without getting yelled at for abandoning his duty), but that relief is shattered by just how injured and torn up his America is, babbling and crying over the deaths of her people. Prussia could care less what the war is about, (something about equal rights and an alliance with Mexico, but America is so out of it that he's not sure whether it's a good or bad thing) and he holds her as she cries, reassuring her that she's just awesome enough to make it.

Prussia's never cursed the return to their world so strongly, because he can't go to America's side with all the trouble in Europe, he can only send some aid. It takes about ten years before her Civil War finally comes to an end, and he's finally allowed to see how she's doing.

She's recovering, and it looks like she'll be stronger than ever once the wounds finally heal. There's a gravestone in her rose garden, but she never explains it, and he never asks.

* * *

Their letters keep going back and forth, there are wars, but America mostly keeps out of conflict (her battles are mostly within her own borders, he knows, because she rants about the treatment of the Native Peoples by her own, but it wasn't like either side was particularly tolerant, either, so fights and battles kept happening, making her more than a little frustrated) and they don't get pulled into that strange world for a while.

By the time the Great War comes around, which he agrees to her description of it being a 'clusterfuck', Prussia realizes that he's in love with America in a way that means he's pretty much done for. There's something rather alluring about a girl that can lift a truck over her head with one hand and throw it at her opponents without breaking a sweat.

(The irony that England still hasn't realized she's a girl makes him break down in laughter every time they meet to talk about treaties- They've been in trenches this entire time and England never even noticed. France probably helped.)

Then once more, they're back in that strange world, and they start exploring once again, they get to watch a Vampire France get chased by a Wizard England and get a good laugh at another male version of her (this one with glasses) that is obsessed with Heroes. They also get to see a female version of Prussia with female France and Spain, and Prussia's face almost permanently turns red at how . . . shameless his female self is. (His America laughs, and reminds him of the stories he's told her, which make him go even redder.)

They find the Dark Woman America from before, who's amused to see them grown up, and the trio talk about alternates (the Dark Woman America reveals her relationship with her own Russia, which makes Prussia scowl because Russia is **not** an awesome country) and Dark Woman America laughs at the idea of fooling England- it sounds a little forced and more than a little sad, and Prussia hugs his own America tight, a part of his mind vowing to keep his America from sounding like that.

The trio are interrupted by another awesome Prussia- who's dragging a male Canada with him and the two Prussias argue over which one is better, arguing their history (and Prussia is dismayed to hear that his nation is dissolved in the 2nd world war, thanks in part to his own brother and Russia.)

They never finish the argument, because the purple eyed Dark Woman America starts to laugh as she fades- this one less forced and more natural.

When they get back, America quietly promises to make sure he won't be dissolved. Prussia knows he's probably going to be dissolved anyway, but he won't go down willingly- though when Hitler comes to power, he isn't able to put up much of a fight (he calls for aide to stop the man, but no one listens though America sends guns and medicine) before he's pretty much imprisoned (by his own brother, who doesn't understand, who's so blinded by Hitler and nationalism to realize the danger- Prussia's pretty convinced the man's got some sort of spell on his brother) and it's not long before World War II starts up and Prussia is left in a cell, probably to die, given the looks the Nazi's give him when his brother's back is turned.

He knows he's a mess when they end up back in that other-world, and America gives a cry of dismay, taking care of him. Prussia wants to say how much he loves her, then, but somehow that sounds like he's giving up, and he's still awesome so he won't give up, not yet. They talk about why her boss is a jerk, not letting her come to his aide, and a bunch of other mundane things that pretty much dissolves into complaining about the people they know.

Dark Woman America finds them this time, and talks about her own world wars (she's had three, which makes Prussia and his America wince) and how she'd been one of the first to enter, rather than waiting to get pulled in. The rather unhelpful comments makes his America scowl in frustration and retort that her boss is against getting into wars.

" . . . That seems to be a popular tactic with all our other alternates too." Dark Woman mutters. "Though this is the first time I've seen one with a Prussia all the time."

Prussia blinks, because the way that woman said it was odd, and he's back in his cell, and more than a little frustrated because he's pretty sure that was the only time he was going to get with his America for a while. When the news that America's entered the war, after an attack on her lands, Prussia's first concern is if she was really okay.

The Allies and America win the war, and Prussia is more than a little relieved to hear he won't be dissolved, even though his lands have shrunk a little.

If he didn't have Russia looking over his shoulder to make sure he didn't start something, things would be better. At least he doesn't have to live with the guy.

When America does finally come out about her real gender, Prussia isn't the only one that laughs at England's shock. He is, however under a lot of scrutiny, when they all find out that he's known her secret for years and France gleefully announces that Prussia and America have been in love for years, prompting both America and Prussia to hit him while bright red.

(Prussia notices that America's finally growing her hair out, and he more than a little pleased.)

The next time they end up in that other world, Prussia is once again wearing old fashion armor (There's a historical festival/convention/costume party just down the road from the conference building, and he's with a group of the countries that are dressed up in their favorite time periods (half of them because it's a dare)- meaning there's a pirate England off fighting a _conquistadore_ Spain once said pirate gets into the liquor) and America is wearing a familiar old dress from her western days that isn't fancy but fits her just right.

America is the one to confess her love first, and Prussia knows he's a bright red when he responds. None of their other alternates are around, so Prussia pushes his awesome luck and pulls America in for a kiss.

They're still kissing when they get shifted back, and between the wolf calls and England's attempt to battle Prussia (deflected by America who puts the drunk pirate into the ground, and by into he means a five foot pirate shaped hole), Prussia can't help but think this relationship is going to be awesome.

* * *

**. . . Yeah, this actually how my mind works. I start one story, and then the plot bunnies start colliding into each other, so I'll have a character from one story talking with a character from another. I thought it might be fun to include that thought process in the fic.**

**Dark Woman America is actually my own re-coloring of the Nyotalia America to be darker, and a bit more inclined to wear dark jeans and jackets than miniskirts and bikini tops. I don't know why she's dating her Russia, but that's what she claimed. She's labeled 'Dark Woman' because Prussia wouldn't call her Dark Nyotalia, especially since I doubt he knows Japanese at the point in time when they meet.**

**I have no idea which universes were battling each other, but with the resultant mess and temporarily mixing parts of other dimensions . . . who cares?**

**Note: when the dimensions/parallel worlds mix, they tend to dump countries close to their own counterparts, which is why you see several different versions of America. I've got a England version of this, (where England meets his alternates) and some ideas for other characters.**

**Also, it's hit or miss on which nations/characters end up in that mixedup world, time's pretty fluid there, too.**

**Prussia is just awesome enough to end up wherever he wants, which, after the first time, was with his America.**

**America getting shot- this is a reference to the 'Boston Massacre'. British soldiers fired into an angry mob of American colonists, without orders, which dispersed the mob, though there was a investigation and a couple of the soldiers were arrested along with some civilians and the matter was dealt with legally . . . but it created a huge wave of Anti-British sentiment in the following weeks. Needless to say, America would have felt it like a betrayal. **

**First draft of the Declaration of independence- read it, Jefferson includes a paragraph about how unjust Slavery is, and there was a movement to free the slaves to fight against England. It was voted down, and the paragraph was removed, but talk about foresight.**

'**Civil War'-Since this America was successful with freeing the slaves for the Revolutionary war, I just combined the civil rights movement, integration and America's war with Mexico. **

**World War I's description- a little crude, but honestly, with all the alliances that were made and everyone jumping on the bandwagons, it's pretty accurate.**

**The rest is self explanatory, though it does inspire a few more plot bunnies. Someday I might make this a chapter story.**


	3. Tangled Parody, Sorta: PrussiaxFemCanada

**You have no idea how weird my mind is. Lately, I've been seeing parodies, some good, some okay, a few horrible, and now I'm thinking of doing one.**

**The problem I've run into, is that I keep finding scenes of movies, that would work well with different characters than what I've come up with for the main cast. **

**For example: If I was going to do a Tangled parody.**

**Veneziano Italy- Rapunzel (would be a female version of Italy . . .)**

**Germany- Flynn (maybe, honestly, I keep switching between Flynn and Maximus the horse)**

**Romano Italy- Pascal the Chameleon**

**And that's as far as I got, before we got to this scene, and well . . . suddenly the characters changed on me.**

**(Note, I'm mixing Nation and Human names)**

* * *

The sun came, bright and early, and the campsite was peaceful.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, better known as the awesome thief Prussia, was using a rock and his arms for a pillow. A drop of water hit his face and made him twitch. A second drop of water hit his face, and he opened his eyes, seeing a very wet, angry, horse with a gold mane.

"Vell, I 'ope you're here to apologize." Gilbert tried to go back to sleep, but the horse had other plans.

"YAHH! NOT AWESOME!" His shout made Canada sit straight up, startled awake and almost tripping on her hair. Her friend, Cuba the Chameleon, was also startled awake.

The horse was dragging Gilbert away. Canada quickly got up and ran after him, digging her feet in the ground as she latched onto Gilbert's arms.

"Let go of him! I need him! Ah!" With another mighty pull, Gilbert's boot stayed with the horse, and Gilbert went flying over Canada's head. Canada quickly got right back up as the horse realized it only had the boot, and promptly tried to go after Gilbert again.

"Whoa! Whoa. Easy, easy . . ." Canada got between the angry horse and Gilbert. The horse, not wanting to hurt the girl, started to calm down, though half of it was confusion at the Chameleon on the girl's head. "Now sit." The horse looked like he was going to object, so Canada repeated it. "Sit." The horse obeyed, still confused. "Now drop the boot. Drop it." Again, the horse reluctantly obeyed. "Good horse, such a good horse!" Canada hugged the horse around its neck.

"Vas?" Gilbert gaped as Canada in moments had the evil horse wrapped around her fingers. This was like the Thugs all over again.

"You must be tired, eh? Chasing the bad man all over the place . . . no one appreciates you, do they?" The horse shook its head, leaning into Canada's hug and pets.

"Come on, that's a bad horse, an evil palace horse!" Gilbert awesomely objected. He was most certainly not pouting, even though he was sitting with his arms crossed, and he was still awesome without the boot that the horse stole.

"No he's not, he's just a big sweetheart, right . . ." Canada noticed the medal on the horse's chest. "America, eh?" The horse gently nuzzled her, making her giggle.

"Great, Birdie, is there anyone you can't make friends vith?" Gilbert got back up, annoyed. First thugs, now evil palace horses . . . America glared, and Gilbert returned it.

"Oh, hush. Look, today's kind of the biggest day of my life, and I need you not to get him arrested- just for 24 hours!" Canada tacked on, seeing the horse about to object. "Then you can chase each other to your heart's content. Deal?"

Well, it was a better deal than the current arrangement. Gilbert was willing to go along with it, mostly because going along with Canada's crazy ideas seemed to work better than his own, for some reason. He held out his hand, though it was a little reluctantly.

America looked away, unwilling to agree.

"And it's kind of my birthday, just so you know." Canada added, and the horse let out a soft noise, before holding out a hoof, and 'shaking' with Gilbert.

At that moment, the bells started to ring, heralding a new day. Canada pushed past them, and Gilbert and America watched the girl who had them completely tangled up with her, in curiosity.

Then America hit Gilbert with a hoof.

'_Take that, thief!_' America 'laughed', then went after Canada, leaving the thief to regain his breath and dignity.

"Damn Horse!"

**. . . yeah. America is Maximus, Gilbert is Flynn, as Rapunzel, and Cuba as Pascal . . . mostly because if Pascal was human, I could see him as a big tough brother that would beat up those that bother Rapunzel, and the way Cuba is presented reminds me of that. (On the upside, this way Cuba can't mistake Canada for America.)**

**. . . . Honestly, Prussia makes a better Flynn. Hmm . . . maybe I should make this a Prussia/N. Italy . . . America the horse is definitely staying . . . **

**What do you think?**


	4. Empty Hands: DarkFemAmericaxFemRussia

**This is more on Dark Woman America from 'Mix up'. This is technically my first time writing a relationship between two girls that isn't friendship.**

**Empty Hands**

Russia is Innocent, but not Naïve. She knows full well that her Girlfriend is dangerous and powerful, and more than a little bloody, but Russia has always spent her life either under the rules of others or isolated and has spent so much time locked up that she's more than willing to trust that the only person that's ever let her see the world won't hurt her.

Her America is a fighter, stubborn, and more than willing to kill anyone that threatens herself and her allies.

America is also misunderstood, because Russia sees past the way she glares at others and destroys things in rages of temper that she can't quite control. Russia sees how America always has her hands working, holding tools to build and create, pens to write, and even working the dirt in her garden or just simply playing with her dark hair or fiddling with her black cowboy hat.

Sometimes, America comes home angry, but she never hurts Russia, and always makes sure to aim her frustration at something she can't break (which isn't a lot, given her unnatural strength which makes her capable of crumpling steel).

Sometimes, America comes home with work, and doesn't even glance at Russia, even when Russia hugs her (sometimes the hugs make America stiffen, her girlfriend isn't used to affection that isn't asked for, and Russia knows better than to feel hurt when America shrugs her off.)

Lately, though, America comes home almost sad, grabbing Russia in a hug, no matter what the other is doing, and just holding on, burying her face into Russia's neck. Today is another one of those days.

"What's wrong?" Russia asks softly, well aware that America won't answer.

"My hands feel empty." Except this time, America does, and Russia is more than a little confused.

"I don't understand."

"I know." America gently grabs Russia's left hand with her own, interweaving their fingers. They stay like that for a while, before America has to deal with 'that Canadian' (why America can't get along with Canada, is a mystery Russia knows she won't understand, the two have almost the exact same outlook on life and are so similar it's scary) and when she leaves to talk on the phone, Russia goes to cook.

Russia stares at her own hands, which aren't as calloused as America's, and notes that despite holding onto a spoon, they feel strangely empty.

And suddenly Russia gets it, putting down the spoon and going to America, who looks ready to break the phone in her hand. Russia gently wraps one arm around America's waist, and grabs onto her free hand, resting her cheek on America's dark hair. America stiffens at first, but then relaxes into the hold, weaving her fingers with Russia's and gradually stops snapping at Canada as they talk.

Neither America or Russia have ever had a stable relationship with another. Russia has spent her time living like a trophy for the most part, and locked in her own house for the rest (She defaults to those with more experience, she's not naïve, but she's still innocent in dealing with others), and America has always fought to survive (so much so that fighting and snarling insults is her default mode when she ends up in a situation she doesn't understand or like). The rest of the world is sure that they'll break apart.

But America values and guards Russia's innocent nature, and Russia does her best to show America that she doesn't have to fight all the time.

Their hands aren't empty, as long as they can reach out and hold each other.

* * *

**. . . Yeah, Dark Woman America isn't quite so dark as long as there's something she likes around- basically, as long as she likes you, you're safe, the kicker is getting her to like you, especially if you aren't as sweet as her Russia, or somewhat interesting.**

**This Russia has been mostly isolationist, (and surprisingly stable) so she's not quite as well, Normal Hetalia Russia-like.**

**Not the most stable relationship, but it's a whole lot more stable than any of their other relationships.**

**I don't know about you, but I kinda like these versions of DarkNyotalia America and Russia that I came up with . . .**


	5. Wild Blue: Canada & America

**Hmm, this is another idea, however, this is just a Family/friendship/h/c/mystery/adventure fic.**

**It is a Clockwork/Steampunk (sorta . . .) Alternate Universe.**

**Tentatively, this is titled 'Wild Blue' and well, I went a little dark, I think, with the outline for this story, mostly because I sorta broke the characters before the story even began.**

_What were the odds?_

He'd been obsessed with odds and chances for a long time. He'd always taken high risks, because, well, there wasn't a while lot he was living for. If he hadn't made the promise to not gamble with his life, he'd have been dead a long time ago.

A result of that promise was his habit of just . . . existing. He didn't stick his neck out, he didn't risk his life, he just just existed, an escort fighter plane for higher. A mercenary . . .

So why was it, now that his contract was up with the Airship _Europa_ and her motely crew, who were going off on the idiotic hope of taking down the Empire by finding a myth, and he was watching them head out to the deserts and drylands, that he felt the need to try and risk his life again?

_What were the odds?_

Hope wanted to kill him, the ace pilot decided, before gently pulling out a crumpled fourth of an old photograph, on which a child with a white stuffed bear happily beamed at the camera.

Because what were the odds that the inexperienced escort pilot that Kirkland had, had a photograph that was missing part of it? The pilot that had his face, even though the hair was longer . . .

What were the odds that it was his younger twin, the one he'd been told was dead?

The one person who had always believed him when he promised to be there, the one who had looked at him as if he was a hero, like he'd claimed as a child . . .

_What were the odds?_

Alfred Jones, better known as just 'Jones' the Lone Sky Cowboy, who never showed his face, and kept his eyes hidden with his goggles, bit his lower lip.

What were the odds that the crew were those missing friends and family that he had been told died, as had the others who had been with him.

Did he dare get the others' hopes up? They couldn't take another disappointment, he couldn't . . . he couldn't take another mistake.

Then again, he knew the odds of having a look-a-like that wasn't his brother . . . with a similar name . . . of a look-alike of his old best friend . . .

_What were the odds?_

* * *

"Birdie, seriously, are you mooning over that guy?" Gilbert stared at Matt, who was leaning on the railing, and staring at the rapidly vanishing town. "Jones is just a jaded freak, we'll find the flying city."

"I'm not mooning, I'm just . . . he's not that bad, Gil." Matt looked over his shoulder.

"Yeah, you'd say that." Gilbert leaned on the rail next to him. "Guy refuses to take off his goggles, his face is probably a mess. Somehow, I think you got the guy to like you."

"He reminded me of Al."

" . . . Al was cool and enthusiastic, Jones is nothing like Al." Gilbert looked at him in annoyance.

"It's been over a decade, they've probably changed . . ."

"Matt, seriously, Jones is not Al, Al would've joined us as soon as he recognized you. Al believed in the old stories of the city and heroes. Al would know who my brother was."

"I know, but Jones still reminded me of him." Especially the night before they got to dock . . . Matt had been still somewhat awake when Jones had covered him with a blanket, before taking his watch. Not to mention the teasing for having 'girly' hair . . . It had been like having a brother again, though Jones was far too jaded to be Al.

Al, who would pick him up and swing him, who teased him, but then put bullies into the ground if they picked on him . . . who believed in heroes and promised to be one, who could do anything, who, despite being scared of the dark, had sat up to keep the monsters away from Matt after a bad dream . . . who, as a kid, had run into a burning building to save him, when the fire broke out, and then went back to help someone else.

Jones didn't do any of that, of course, Jones was a loner to Al's social butterfly, Jones only went as far as his contract wrote, who preferred his plane to people. But Jones wasn't all bad, and . . . well . . . it had been nice, to have a brother of a sort.

"Come on, Birdie, let's go in before Kirkland and Antonio go at it again."

"Too late." Shouts and curses reached them. "Sounds like Francis joined them."

"And they didn't invite me?" Gilbert dragged Matt back in, Matt giving the fading city, and the place where they're split from Jones, one last, somewhat hopeful glance, before following Gilbert willingly.

* * *

**Yeah . . . this is what I came up with, one day- I've sort of got an idea of where I want this to go, but I haven't gotten there yet.**


	6. A little odd: Germany, America & France

**Okay, here's some head cannon on Germany . . . with France and America.**

**Set during the 1936 olympics in Berlin. Some Historical liscence taken, I think, but given that it's Hetalia . . .**

* * *

**A little odd**

Germany watched as the American runner took the lead, impressed. The Olympic games were a nice break from working and Italy was off somewhere with his brother so he wasn't going to be bothered for a bit.

"Hey Germany, how are you doing?" Germany blinked, before glancing up to see America, looking fairly uncomfortable in a simple suit, come over.

"I am fine, how have you been?"

"Alright, I can't really complain." America glanced at the Track. "These games are a nice break from work, though."

"Yes, they are." Germany agreed. The two began talking about the games and who they thought was going to win, and both blinked when there was a soft cough.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Germany, but I was hoping to have a word with you."

"_Ja_, America, allow me to introduce my boss, Adolf Hitler . . . Herr Hitler, This is the United States of America."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure is all mine, Herr America." Hitler smiled politely. "Forgive my being forward, but you appear young . . ."

"Well, yes, I suppose you could say I still have potential to grow." America flushed, a little embarrassed and adjusted his glasses.

"Yes . . . you seem to be almost as tall as Germany . . . forgive my rudeness, I haven't had much interaction with other personifications, and there are some questions that I have yet to have answered." Hitler noticed America's uneasiness.

"That's okay." America waved it off. Germany shifted, unsure if he should interrupt and remind Hitler he had come to talk to him.

_It's just curiosity, there's no need to be worried._ Germany wished the feeling in the back of his mind would settle.

"I'll just ask one more question, then, do you really need those glasses?"

"Oh, these?" America removed them easily, offering a sheepish smile. "Not exactly . . . I have some trouble with seeing or reading things close up, it's just easier to always wear them . . . I spent too much time reading and writing with poor lighting when I was younger."

"Fascinating . . . Well, I'll let you get back to your conversation with Germany . . . Germany, if you wouldn't mind coming to find me in an hour or so? I need to go over the closing ceremonies with you."

"_Jawhol_." Germany nodded.

"America, it was a pleasure meeting you, I hope we can talk again in the future."

"Thank you, it was a pleasure talking to you as well." America shook his hand again, and the two countries watched him go.

"Germany . . . your boss . . . He makes me a little uneasy."

"_Ja _. . . he can be a little . . . intense at times."

"_Amerique!_" Was the only warning before France cheerfully grabbed the younger nation in a hug. "I was wondering where you got too."

"Just talking to Germany about the games, I got to meet his boss, too, he's, interesting."

"Ah, yes, Hitler . . ." France frowned, glancing at where the man had gone.

"You have a complaint?" Germany looked at France. It wasn't lost on either of the nations that America maneuvered to stand between them.

"_Non_ . . . and yet, I don't like the way he's been looking at me." France glanced at Germany. "I've seen that look before in many men."

"I think the shot put is the next event." Germany and France looked at America, who looked at them innocently. "What? I'm trying to remember which events I'm supposed to actually watch . . . besides, there's not a lot we can actually do, it's not like he's done anything."

" . . . True." France agreed, not bothering to mention something else he'd noticed. "Shall we go?"

France wasn't sure what bothered him about Hitler, the fact he had gotten the German military running again, or the fact that, when he met a nation, he seemed to study them, judging them . . . and that to date, the only nations Hitler had willing talked to where those with blue eyes and blond hair.

France could take being looked at like a piece of meat- he'd had it happen before and he could use it to his advantage- he couldn't take the way Hitler had looked at America, though, it had sent his big brother instincts clamoring, and it wasn't lost on him that Hitler had left when he spotted France coming.

But there was no way to publicly decry someone who was doing so much for his own country, and it wasn't like France had the extra resources to investigate.

* * *

**. . . There's something very ironic in the fact that Germany is tall, blond and blue eyed. In my Hetalia headcannon, I figured that the reason Hitler decided on people like that was because that's what Germany looked like. If you want some more history, keep on reading, if not, skip down to review.**

**Hitler- I find him creepy because the guy was so charismatic, that literally, he was able to make everyone look away. He got the Germany economy jumpstarted so that they were the fastest to recover from the depression. If he hadn't been so crazy, he probably would have been considered one of the heroes of that century. (Never mind that, by his own rules, he was technically inferior. He wasn't even that healthy, according to some info I found.)**

**Germany, in one of the webcomics, mentions that he finds Hitler a little odd, but, like in real life, no one did anything. After all, being 'odd' isn't exactly a reason to take out a guy that is doing wonders for the country. And Hitler wasn't even the only leader that had his own Theories of Eugenics- Winston Churchill also did, and so did a couple American presidents. It was a popular thing to discuss, so again, if Hitler started talking about a master race, people wouldn't have thought twice about it, or even thought he'd do anything. (Heck, we have people now that talk about genetically engineering people, and let's not get into comic books. The idea of having supermen and a race of people stronger and better than anyone else dates back to the days of mythology, and the idea of eliminating the 'inferior' is still in existence, too . . . just not at the same expense that Hitler went too.)**

**France, also, is depicted as blond and blue eyed, though not quite as tall. Prior to WW 2 France was also somewhat aware that something wasn't quite right with Hitler, but didn't actually do anything until after the invasion of Poland, 1938. It was a case of, "they might be up to something, but we can't afford to investigate thoroughly right now". In hindsight, it's frustrating.**

**America . . . it depends, but his hair is pretty close to blond (I'd say a dirty blond) and he's about 2 cm shorter than Germany (America is listed as 178, Germany is 180). However, the human 'age' he's given is 19, and guys don't really stop growing until their early 20s, meaning there's a chance that he could be as tall as Germany or even Russia when he finally 'matures'. (The same is true of Canada, who is, what, the 2****nd**** largest country after Russia?)**

**Most Americans didn't exactly care that much about Europe in the days leading up to WW II, and they certainly wouldn't have cared about Hitler. However, there were visits made, and Hitler managed to impress everyone that visited with how intelligent and capable of a leader he was. He even made it as Time Magazine's Man of the Year, and a lot of people were impressed with his ability to get Germany's economy moving again, that they were willing to ignore any oddities that might have shown.**

**(When war did break out, most Americans were pretty much 'oh, look, the Europeans are trying to kill each other again, and there's going to be rain later today', that said, they were a little more concerned what was happening with Japan and China, but from what I can tell, it wasn't that much more.)**

**Texas- can I say that I'm really not sure what to make of the fact the lone star state is a pair of glasses? America's vision varies from fanfic to fanfic, so my head cannon, based on how America wears them, is that they're more for reading than anything, and he just wears them constantly to keep from losing them.**

**America moving between France and Germany- The author of Hetalia (whose name I fail at spelling, if someone could help?) noted that America actually isn't incapable of reading the atmosphere, he just chooses to ignore it most of the time. This wasn't one of those times.**


	7. Rules: Ensemble

**Rules (Improved and Annotated!)**

**1. RISK and Battleship are hereby banned from all meetings.**

** i. So is Cluedo (CLUE!), Life, Monopoly, Taboo, Pictionary . . .**

** ii. Basically, the only game allowed is chess.**

** iii. Are you crazy, do you remember the last time America and Russia played chess?! The Baltics still freak out!**

** iv. Card games are also banned.**

Russia and America stared at the Rule, then at each other.

"It wasn't that bad. I mean, we didn't try to kill each other like Spain and England with Battleship, or Greece and Turkey with Risk." America pointed out.

"And I thought your monopoly game with China was entertaining."

"That game lasted for eight days." Latvia pointed out. "It only stopped because America and China passed out from exhaustion." They ignored him.

"Haha, I wouldn't mind playing him again." America grinned. "Though I wish England would stop calling Clue 'Cluedo'- he complains about me making up words."

"France's stories while we were playing Life were highly entertaining." Russia noted.

"They were perverted, you mean." America snorted. "Hey, want a rematch on that chess game?"

"Da." Russia smiled, neither noticing Latvia passing out in terror. "Maybe later we can play Tetris?"

"You're on!"

**2. As all nations represent different cultures, it is important to remember that our tastes in food are not the same. So please, NO MORE FOOD FIGHTS IN THE KITCHENS!**

** i. England is banned from the kitchen unless supervised by Scotland.**

** ii. And would people stop putting Peanut Butter, Vegemite and Marmite in the pantry, it's getting excessive (and not to mention disgusting, who eats such things?).**

** iii. Sorry, keep forgetting if I have it or not. And Peanut Butter is good!**

** iv. Marmite's not that bad. *Neither's Vegemite.**

** v. New Zealand, Australia, America, we all know your tastebuds were wrecked by England when you were young, but that's no reason to show off your ability to eat poison!**

"My cooking is not that bad." England huffed.

"_Angleterre_, face facts, your cooking isn't even fit for dogs." France sighed. "Marmite being the best example."

"How come America isn't banned?"

"He can cook, thankfully mine, the Italies' and Spain's influence saved him. He just chooses not to, most of the time." France sighed. "It doesn't help that he'll eat anything."

"Marmite is a perfectly fine dietary supplement." England huffed.

"_Angleterre_, I wouldn't feed it to a starving dog!" And once again, England and France started fighting.

Australia and New Zealand walked past, ignoring the fight in favor of planning an eating contest.

**3. Animals are not allowed in the meetings!**

** i. I think we broke that rule years ago.**

** ii. Broke it? Dude, we shattered it into pieces before smashing it to oblivion.**

** iii. I like cats, is there a problem with that?**

** iv. Cats are fine, it's the rest of the animals people keep bringing- who the hell brought a goat?!**

"Kitty!" Italy and Greece were surrounded by cats.

"That's Private Cat, and his sister, Private Neko." Greece introduced them.

" . . . Is it arright for Greece to bring arr of them through customs?" Japan blinked.

"I have no idea. The brat just does what he wants." Turkey growled as he rescued his scarf from a kitten. "Why is there a mongoose?"

"Brazil-san's sloth is loose as well, as are Madagascar's Lemurs."

"Hey, your accent is getting better on the 'L's."

"I have been practicing." An elephant's trumpet was sounded. "How did India get an erephant here?"

"Actually, Kenya brought a baby elephant, something about a delicate time?"

**4. If it makes you giggle, chuckle or laugh for more than ten seconds, DO NOT DO IT!**

** i. Killjoy.**

** ii. No, seriously, do you realize how difficult it was to explain to our bosses why we had a week of dance parties and what, exactly, was Germany doing in sparkly leather pants, the waiter and maid costumes, the fire truck, the seven Hello Kitty inflatable pools, the kegs, the compromising positions, and why we had to bail England, Spain, France and Prussia out of Jail for indecent exposure . . . and that was only the first night of that week.**

** iii. I don't know, the water balloons and spoons were a funny prank.**

"Kesese, that was a fun week . . ." Prussia grinned. Then he went to find France and Spain, because he had plans to top that week.

"I will never understand western nations." China sighed.

"China, you were the one that came up with the inflatable pools." India pointed out. "And South Korea was the one that started the Psy marathon."

"Don't remind me . . ." China groaned.

"Oppa Gangnam Style!" South Korea shouted from somewhere down the hall.

**5. No more mocking other nations accents . . . seriously, that joke's gotten old.**

** i. This especially includes American accents, because honestly, mixing anyone else's accent with those just makes my teeth curl.**

** ii. Poland can pull it off.**

** iii. Poland can pull off cross-dressing and nearly being wiped off the map, and is thus the exception to this rule.**

"Like, I knew I was special!" Poland beamed.

"That's one word for it." Germany sighed as Poland went to tell Lithuania. "Why do we even bother with posting these?"

"Russia and America are playing chess, run, run for your lives!"

"Madagascar, Greece, get the lemurs and cats under control!"

"England destroyed the kitchen! Whose goat is this?!"

"Australia and New Zealand are having a marmite eating contest- no, Hong Kong, don't join them, aru!"

"I challenge England to a game of Risk!" Spain shouted.

"Bring it on, Spainish-" England shouted back, along with several words unfit for print.

"Spain and England have regressed to the age of Discovery!" Mexico yelled in panic. "I am not going through this again!"

"Portugal just joined them!" Brazil yelled.

"Okay, who's the genius that brought a mongoose?! Seriously, the damn thing is stalking me!" Turkey shouted.

"Turkey-san, be careful!"

Germany just sighed and covered his face with one hand, as the chaos unfolded. It was inevitable, he decided. No matter what happened, insanity was just going to follow them.

Still, he was going to have to keep trying to bring some order to the chaos . . . maybe he could hide in America? He had a decent American accent that he'd been practicing since World War II.

* * *

**Yeah, I think the rules are more like guidelines to the personifications . . . or encouragement to actually try the things they're trying to ban.**

**Cluedo vs. Clue . . . um, how exactly is Cluedo a word? **

**Monopoly- my dad is of the mindset that you do not stop playing until someone has won. China and America, being China and America, would also probably of the mindset. (Incidentally, in that game, France, Russia, England and Canada were also playing- they all gave up after awhile. It was a draw, on that note.)**

**Scotland- because at least one of the personifications of Great Britain has to be able to cook and Scotland is my favorite.**

**America cooking- like with reading the atmosphere, I'm sure america can cook, he just chooses not to most of the time.**

**Marmite- you love it or you hate it, same with vegemite and apparently, peanut butter.**

**I don't want to know what happened that week.**

**Poland being wiped off the map- don't remember when this was, but in one history book, there was a map without Poland on it, in between two maps of Poland's existence. **


	8. Something Different:America Italy Russia

**This story will be published as soon as I've finished with Sea Foam. (Twisted Every Way is currently on hiatus due to a plot hole I'm trying to fill in.) However, I thought you'd like to meet the three main characters a little early.**

**Tentaively, this story will be titled: well, 'Tomato Moon'. Title is subject to change, if you wouldn't mind giving me suggestions?**

**Long AN at the bottom, you're welcome to skip it, though.**

**Something Different**

It had started with what he had thought was a cold, which then turned into something that felt like a sinus infection.

Right along with it, he had noticed that his desire for meat had also gone up. What was once a burger once or twice a week soon turned into at least three of the largest burgers he could get (or as many smaller burgers he could buy cheaply) a day.

The real kicker came when he had decided to buy a steak, planning on grilling it for dinner. Instead, he had found himself eating it raw, before he had even put it on the grill. He'd laughed it off, or tried to, and quickly cooked it before finishing.

Then one morning, he had woken up naked and in pure pain, some of his furniture overturned and definitely not where it had been the day before. Everything, including his jaw and even his teeth ached, and he felt like he was starving. What scared him the most though, was that he had changed, his eyesight was much better his glasses now made his vision worse, and the persistent sinus infection was gone, leaving him able to smell things much better than he had before.

Later, he replaced the lenses of his glasses with plain glass and tried to explain everything away- he had probably gotten drunk, which was why his furniture was out of place and the memory of that night was so poor (never mind the fact he couldn't find any bottles to support this theory), and done something stupid that ended with him hurting himself (he ignored the lack of bruises) and of course his sense of smell would be, no, would _seem_ better, he'd gone for almost a month with a sinus infection. As for his eyes, well, over time, one could strengthen one's vision by slowly moving to lesser lenses (he steadfastly ignored the fact that he had gone from needing glasses to not needing them practically in one night).

During his clean-up that evening (which was when the pain finally faded to a dull ache), he noticed on his fallen calendar that the previous night had been a full moon, and he tried to write of his sinking feeling as his cat cautiously came out of hiding. His cat was never cautious.

Another month of eating a lot more (cheap) burgers than was strictly healthy, and he reluctantly set up a camera in his basement the day of the full moon, before locking himself in before nightfall.

The next morning, once again in incredible pain and very hungry, he woke up and found himself faced with a very scratched up door, and gnawed on furniture. When he finally could move without pain, it was close to evening. He retrieved the camera, rewound it, and began to watch in dawning horror as he changed into . . .

He buried his face in his hands, unable to deny the footage on the screen. He, Alfred F. Jones was a real werewolf.

"Okay Jones, don't freak out, you can figure this out, just, do some research, there's probably a way to fix this." He quietly told himself, "bad things happen to heroes and they don't quit, so you can't either." Filled with renewed hope, he began to focus on finding a cure, ignoring the snow outside.

* * *

Across the rather sleepy little town, an Italian artist smiled as he finished another painting. "Done!" Feliciano Vargas beamed as he began cleaning up his paints. His current model absently stretched as he moved out of his position. "Thanks for the help Antonio!"

"No problem, Feli, where's Lovino?" Antonio picked up his shirt from where he had tossed it.

"Ve, he said something about making pizza. Oh, that reminds me, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to!" Antonio smiled. "I'll go talk to Lovi while you clean up."

"Okay, I'm sure brother would love the company!" Feliciano smiled, before turning to finishing cleaning up, sounds of his brother shouting at Antonio for not wearing a shirt soon reached him. "Ve, brother really likes Antonio." Feliciano mused, before moving the painting of Antonio to dry. Quietly, he picked up another painting of green plants that was still unfinished due to his inability to get the detail on it just right. Normally, Feliciano did his best, but there was something missing in the painting that had him stumped.

_Meow._ Venice, his cat, hopped onto his stool.

"Ve, I'll figure it out eventually." Feliciano decided, and put the unfinished painting away again. "Let's go eat!" He scooped up his cat, who purred and gave a cheerful '_Ve-nya!'_ as his owner carried him downstairs. He didn't see the two moving balls of light that came from by the window to hover over the unfinished painting.

"Look Feli, it's snowing!" Antonio cheerfully pointed out as he held on tight to Lovino, who was seconds away from throttling the Spaniard (or claiming to be, as he was no longer struggling and only grumbling insults).

"Yay! I wonder if Ludwig would want to go ice skating tomorrow." Feliciano mused.

"You're not seeing that potato bastard again!" Lovino shouted, annoyed.

"But, _fratello_ . . ."

"No! He's a God-damned Pervert, and you need to stay away from him! Especially while that bastard's brother is in town!"

"Ve, Gilbert lives with Ludwig . . ." Feliciano blinked.

"That's my point!"

"Lovino, Gilbert's not that bad," Antonio started, intending to stick up for his friend, but Lovino would have none of it.

The rest of dinner was spent alternating between eating, and Feliciano trying to convince Lovino that Ludwig was not a pervert even though he did have a box of dirty magazines and DVDs (even a couple old VHS too).

* * *

On Main Street, shops were closing as the night settled over the town. Most people were rushing home to warm up as the snow began to fall harder.

The only person not rushing anywhere wore an old-style thick winter coat and ragged scarf, quietly watching the people go by. With a small smile, he watched as two drunks left the still open bar, the shorter one clearly more intoxicated than the other, taller blond.

He liked this little town, it was far different than the land he had originally come from, and he wondered what summer would feel like. The best part, he had already decided, about the town was that there was no way his sister would ever find him here, this town was far off the beaten track, and he had only found it by accident.

Deciding to head to the bar, before someone complained about his loitering again, he was distracted by a little girl with braided pig-tails spinning with arms outstretched. Her mother was busy with a little baby who was fussing from the cold, and so didn't notice when the little girl spun a little too fast, slipped and bumped into him. He caught her before she fell.

"Oh! Sorry, mister!' The little girl straightened, embarrassed. He let her go, not wanting to cause more trouble than he could afford. Mothers were never reasonable when their child was too close to someone that was as tall as he was, for some reason.

"It's alright little one, but you should be a little more careful."

"You talk funny!" The little girl blinked. "Are you from another country?" The fascination in her voice made him smile.

"Yes, I am from Russia. Is that your mother?"

"Oh, yes! Mama!" The little girl quickly got her mother's attention as he walked her back to her mother. The woman looked up and a brief flash of alarm crossed her face, before vanishing into a wary expression.

"Mary, what have I told you about talking to strangers?"

"Sorry Mama, I ran into him!" The little girl apologized. "He's from Russia!"

"Russia?" The mother blinked in confusion.

"Yes, I just moved here. I am afraid my height made it hard for me to notice your little one until we bumped into each other." He apologized awkwardly. The woman's expression softened a little.

"It's alright. I have to get these two home before they turn into icicles, but it was nice meeting you, Mr?"

"Braginski, Ivan Braginski."

"Anna Pavlov." The woman smiled, and left, Ivan watched her go as briefly the wind blew the snow up around the three of them.

Ivan headed into the bar, where he calmly ordered a bottle of Vodka. He stayed in the bar, not socializing, for about an hour before deciding he'd be better of drinking at home. With a soft sigh, he left the bar and began walking.

Taking a shortcut through an alley, he felt his lips twitch into an innocent smile when he saw a young man with a pipe in front of him.

"Give me your money!"

"_Nyet_." Ivan calmly grabbed the pipe, which began to freeze under his touch. In moments, the ice reached the would-be mugger, who found himself figuratively frozen in horror as it spread onto him, painfully freezing his hands.

"De-Demon!" The would-be mugger whimpered, looking up into a playfully-cruel gaze.

Minutes later, Ivan cheerfully left the alley, and the would be mugger was still frozen in place, this time literally. Before he completely left the alley, however, he turned back with a smile. "And it's 'Daimon', not 'Demon', I am not from Hell." He corrected belatedly, before continuing on his way.

He'd have to get a weapon of some kind, later, he decided. Perhaps a pipe?

* * *

**This story is mainly because I really dislike the characterizations of America, N. Italy, and Russia in most Supernatural/Fantasy fics.**

**America is usually depicted as either a hyperactive monster, or a hyperactive hunter, and generally, the most useless at understanding everything going on.**

**I would like to point out, that by virtue of liking horror movies, he would at least be genre savvy enough to know certain myths just by certain movies. He might be occasionally wrong genre savvy, but he wouldn't be a total idiot. On that note, he wouldn't be super knowledgeable, either, but he wouldn't constantly be making mistakes. Point 2: You do remember that canonically, one of Alfred's hobbies is Archaeology, right? That means he's studied history, and a big part of history is the myths and folklore of various regions.**

**He might not actively believe in Magic, (which I'm pretty sure is ½ Skepticism, ½ messing with England), but he's still a big enough kid to want to believe in the supernatural. ****(Please note the amount of movies and TV shows with a 'supernatural' based theme/plot that are watched in America, You'll find at least one on every channel.)**

**Details of what exactly a werewolf is in this little world of mine will be covered in the actual story.**

* * *

**N. Italy is either a vamp, or at least, so dang needy that he might as well be a vamp, or a walking font of exposition, either as a 'priest' or 'hunter', in the supernatural fics.**

**I'd like to point out, that while Italy is considered one of the best 'lovers', he wouldn't be so needy about it, nor would he get bitten by a vampire in the first place- There is this little thing called faith, and he's Italian, while he's not shown wearing a crucifix, there's little doubt in my mind that he'd be at least Christian if not outright Catholic, and he'd have ready access to one (and Holy Water) in a hurry. Odds are, he'd get so scared hypnotism wouldn't work and he'd outrun the vampire straight to Germany or the nearest church, whichever is closest.**

**As for walking talking exposition- maybe on practices of the Church, art and tomatoes. Less so on the supernatural, and I really, really doubt Italy would ever willingly become a hunter- the guy runs the fastest when retreating, remember? Why would he search out scary things? or even want to, for that matter. (Same deal for the treatment of Romano, the two are more likely to lock themselves in a room Blessed with Holy water and Crucifixes (maybe some garlic) than willingly go after monsters.)**

**Venice is the Nekotalia version of Italy (From the name Veneziano), I named the Nekotalia version of Romano 'Roma'. The balls of light will be important in the story.**

* * *

**Russia, No one really seems to get him quite right, especially when they go and make him a demon. All too often, he winds up the villain or really sadistic . . . which just doesn't do his character justice. The big guy may look scary and even be scary at times, but please note, he's not evil!**

**Now, this leads into a little issue I have with most Demon fics- Demons/Devils are from hell, they do not care about humans or Angels, They want to make humans miserable and convince them that hell is a better place than Heaven, but Hell itself is an evil place that makes Tartarus from Greek mythology look like a child's playground. Demons do not care for humans beyond their usefulness as game pieces to get back at Heaven by collecting as many as they can, they especially hate Angels because they stayed loyal and obedient to God, and any 'kindness' they show is just a ploy to trick someone into thinking 'oh, they're not so bad, Judaism/Christianity/Islam/Any-other-religion-I've -missed is just making it up to scare us'. No. If anything, They're understating the level of evil that Demons represent to get their point across. (Can you tell I understated the size of the issue I have yet? If you want me to back this up, PM/Review and I will give you a list of resources that you can read for yourself. Angels (and Demons): What do we really know about them? by Peter Kreeft is a lovely introduction on this subject.)**

**What is a Daimon? 'Daimon' is Greek, and roughly translates into 'Spirit'. These Spirits, like most, could be helpful or hurtful, but were pretty much neutral in their regard to humans. Daimon's could be attached to a particular object (Such as a shield for protection), or even a particular person that they liked (Socrates mentions having a daimon that drove him to ask questions of others in Plato's Apology, it didn't convince the jury who sentenced him to death), as well as a house or some area of nature (and yet were different from other greek/roman nature spirits . . . don't ask, I didn't get it either).**

**Now, when Christianity was spreading, they believed that anything not outright proven to be by God was then therefore the work of the Devil, and Daimons were suddenly labeled 'evil', and over time, the word Daimon was changed to Demon in reference to evil, and 'Daimon' pretty much dropped out of use entirely. Looking back, it is possible that some 'Daimons' were more guardian angels than demons, but this goes into more detail than I'd like. **

**The point I'm trying to make, is that, like Russia, Daimons are misunderstood and have been given a bad rap, being mistaken for Demons from hell and all. This will play a huge part of the story (when I get around to it). The other point, is that Russia will not be a villain. He won't be a hero, either, but he will definitely not be a villain.**

**(Can you guess who Mary Pavlov is?)**


End file.
